


Put the Doctor on the Phone 'Cause I'm Not Making Any Sense

by PadawanRyan



Series: Magic Realism Mpreg 'Verse [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Childbirth, Crack and Angst, Discussion of Abortion, Fluff and Crack, Gen or Pre-Slash, Getting Together, M/M, Mpreg, Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Unplanned Pregnancy, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25559728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PadawanRyan/pseuds/PadawanRyan
Summary: “Okay.” Patrick looked as though he was trying to figure out what to say next. Not that Pete blamed him at all for not knowing how to respond, but it wasn’tPatrick’sproblem. It wasPetewho was fermenting at the moment. “So, she slept with you and then cursed you with pregnancy to, what? Teach you not to be a slut or something?”
Relationships: Past Pete Wentz/Original Female Character(s), Patrick Stump & Pete Wentz, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Series: Magic Realism Mpreg 'Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144502
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Put the Doctor on the Phone 'Cause I'm Not Making Any Sense

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is probably the crackiest fucking shit I have _ever written_. I was just sitting around last night and the idea popped into my head of Pete being impregnated through a curse, and then the rest of the fic basically began stringing itself together. However, I didn't start writing it until today because I was too busy _reading_ last night, but that gave me more time to think about it in bed. It's supposed to take place during their last tour right before the hiatus, which will be made more clear toward the end, but I figured that I would mention that before people start reading so that you know how to visualize the characters.
> 
> **Warning ahead of time:** almost half of this fic is basically about abortion. I will state already that the abortion _does not happen_ , but I figured that I'd warn people ahead of time in case that is a trigger. However, the intended abortion does plays an important role in the curse and how the pregnancy progresses.
> 
> Magic is known in this universe, but it's rare — none of the boys have magic, but nobody is surprised that Pete was cursed. And this can also be read as gen for the most part, but is definitely written as pre-slash.

Pete watched as Patrick’s eyebrows knit, forehead creased, and the younger man pinched his nose. “But _how_ ,” he asked, “did you get _pregnant?_ ”

“I told you!” Pete exclaimed. “A witch cursed me!”

“A witch…cursed you.”

Huffing a breath and rolling his eyes, Pete confirmed, “ _yes_. This is why you don’t sleep with witches. Not that I _knew_ she was a witch when—”

“Okay.” Patrick looked as though he was trying to figure out what to say next. Not that Pete blamed him at all for not knowing how to respond, but it wasn’t _Patrick’s_ problem. It was _Pete_ who was fermenting at the moment. “So, she slept with you and then cursed you with pregnancy to, what? Teach you not to be a slut or something?”

“Isn’t a baby supposed to be a _blessing_ , not a _curse?_ ” Joe asked from the couch behind them. Pete fought the urge to throw a spoon at him.

Pete nodded at Patrick, unsure himself of what to say. “I think so,” he finally added softly.

“Okay. Okay. We can…we’ll handle this.”

“Handle this?”

“Yes,” Patrick said. “You can’t go on tour while pregnant. We don’t even know if you can carry until term, this could be _dangerous_ —”

“Sleeping with a witch was dangerous,” Joe piped up again. This time, Pete did whip is spoon at the guitarist, not feeling even a shred of guilt when he yelped upon impact. “I. Didn’t. Know,” he ground out again, because why the fuck weren’t these people _listening_ to him?

“ _Anyway_ ,” Patrick continued, “we’ll make some calls and see who can do a discrete one-of-its-kind male abortion.”

Pete froze. “Abortion?”

“Yes, _abortion_. This is _dangerous_ and you just _can’t_ be pregnant right now, so we’ll just…” The younger man gestured with his hand as he trailed off.

Look, Pete had been none too thrilled to learn that he was pregnant, especially as the result of a curse by some bitter witch who wasn’t happy with his promiscuity. He certainly wasn’t ready to be a father – or would he be the mother, in this case? – but the thought of killing his unborn child didn’t sit right with him. Couldn’t he just have the baby and then give it to his parents? Well, his parents probably wouldn’t _want_ to raise Pete’s kid for him – he was supposed to be declaring his independence by being a successful musician, and that wasn’t something an independent man did – but he couldn’t just _get rid of it_.

“I don’t think—”

Patrick cut him off. “You never do. That’s how you ended up in this situation in the first place.”

Well, ouch. Patrick wasn’t exactly _wrong_ and Pete knew that, but it hurt nonetheless. “I just don’t feel comfortable with the idea of—”

“Pete. Please. Think about your health if nothing else.”

And, well—shit. Patrick was looking at him with pleading eyes, worried, and Pete couldn’t exactly deny that face. Patrick might claim that there were a million factors to consider, including the tour and it not being the right time, but Pete could tell that Patrick’s mind was focusing on only one thing: _dangerous, dangerous, dangerous_. Pete’s body was not designed to conceive and carry a foetus to term, so he knew damn well that it could be dangerous for him, but he hadn’t really been thinking about all that. All he had been thinking about was the fact that a _witch_ had _cursed him_ for being a manwhore.

How did Pete even get into these situations?

But if there was one thing he never wanted to do again, it was worry Patrick. So, he closed his eyes and said, “yeah, sure. Fine. I get it. We’ll…yeah.”

Patrick nodded. “Thank you. Now let me find Andy, I think he might know where to begin.”

* * *

Andy did, in fact, know where to begin. How was it possible that their drummer happened to know a doctor who specialized in curses?

So, Pete had an appointment with a doctor a week later when they would be close enough to his office to drop in. They weren’t doing _the thing_ just yet – it was just a preliminary appointment where the doctor got to know Pete and the situation and what even _could_ be done about it – but Pete was nonetheless a jumble of nerves as the date came closer. The rest of the band had talked about nothing else but Pete’s freaky curse pregnancy for almost a week and Pete was tired of it. Maybe _handling it_ would be the best course of action, because he just wanted to return to his normal life again.

Pete could bring one person into Dr. Richards’ office with him, so of course he picked Patrick. There was no one else he’d rather have by his side.

After Pete had explained the situation to him, the doctor looked a little concerned. “I’ve never dealt with a curse _pregnancy_ before, but there’s a first time for everything.” Oh boy, did Pete ever feel reassured. “Let’s take a sonogram first, why don’t we?”

The baby was too small to really be seen on a sonogram, but Dr. Richard was able to find the heartbeat and the three men in the room knew it for certain: Pete was definitely pregnant. Well, Pete was pretty sure already that he was pregnant. It wasn’t that he was experiencing the symptoms of pregnancy – it’s not like he had a period to miss – but the witch hadn’t exactly been subtle with her curse. When she had reached out to Pete for something _more_ and he had rebuked her, well…she made it pretty clear what she thought of him. And despite the lack of evidence until this moment, Pete had just _known_ she was telling the truth.

But to hear the heartbeat and confirm what he already knew to be true was a whole different experience than _just knowing it_.

“Well, you’re definitely pregnant,” Dr. Richards confirmed.

“Can he even _carry_ a child?” Patrick asked.

The doctor nodded. “It appears so,” he explained. “From what I can see on the sonogram, he actually has a womb there capable of carrying the child. I won’t pretend the pregnancy is without its risks – male pregnancy is not something we encounter very often, and as the result of a _curse_ has yet to be documented – but it’s surprising how quickly his body has adapted. I’d imagine that was part of the, ahem, _curse_.”

“I’m right here,” Pete grumbled. “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here.”

“Right. Well, Mr. Wentz, you’re going to be a father.”

“Or not,” Patrick added.

“Oh. Yeah. We wanted to ask…” Pete began, gulping and trying to form the words. “Umm, we wanted to ask about…”

He couldn’t get the words to form, they weren’t going to come out. No matter how much he agreed with Patrick that this was _dangerous_ and with himself that he _couldn’t be a father_ , Pete couldn’t bring himself to ask the doctor about an abortion. The doctor said that his body had adapted, right? So, it was entirely possible that he could carry the child to term, and then maybe…give it to his parents or someone else who really _needed_ it. Someone else who really _wanted_ a child and maybe couldn’t have one.

“Oh, I see.” It was impossible to tell from his tone how Dr. Richards felt about the decision. “Well, I can schedule you for a termination, if you’d like.”

Pete’s mouth wasn’t working. Patrick wasn’t saying anything. Why wasn’t Patrick saying anything? Isn’t this what Patrick wanted? He needed Patrick to be the strong one in this situation, Pete _needed_ Patrick to be the one to say it.

“I can give you a moment to think about it and discuss your options,” the doctor offered.

Pete nodded.

But then he shook his head.

Because he didn’t want to discuss this with Patrick. He already knew how it would go down. Patrick would _want_ him to abort but would nonetheless respect his decision to keep the child, because Patrick didn’t believe in telling another person what to do with their body. But Patrick would worry about him and he didn’t _want_ Patrick to worry about him, because he loved Patrick – that was his _best friend_ in the _entire_ world – and would do absolutely anything for him. Plus, what if he _did_ die? He would never forgive himself in the afterlife for causing Patrick the pain of losing him.

So, Pete shook his head and gathered up the courage to speak again.

“No, I’ll do it,” he said.

The younger man grabbed his hand, and Pete _knew_ that the squeeze was meant to be comforting. But he was unsure of what _he_ – Pete – was feeling in that moment.

* * *

The last thing Pete expected when he awoke the next day was to be unable to see his feet because of a swelling stomach in his way.

“Okay, something about this is not right,” Andy said at breakfast, furrowing his brow.

Pete looked down at his stomach. “You think?”

There wasn’t a lot of time to think about the sudden change in situation, though, because Pete’s appointment was that afternoon. They had to act swiftly because they had a show the next day and he would need to recover, and while the doctor would prefer him spend several _days_ recovering, they were on the tour and there wasn’t time. Patrick was torn between making sure making sure Pete stayed safe and not disappointing the fans, so he had picked the earliest appointment that afternoon. That would allow for at least twenty-four hours in bed (or bunk) until the soundcheck before their next performance.

So, it was agreed unanimously that Pete would ask Dr. Richards about it when he arrived for his appointment.

Except, Dr. Richards was concerned.

“It’s undoubtedly part of the curse. I would imagine, since the baby was the curse, that choosing to terminate it expedited the pregnancy to ensure that termination couldn’t happen. At this point, we’re better off delivering,” he explained.

“I can’t abort it?” Pete asked.

The doctor shook his head. “It’s usually recommended not to abort after twelve weeks, but in some cases we can up to sixteen. However, your pregnancy is now at a full forty weeks – you’re ready to deliver any second now – and therefore we can’t abort. There is a fully grown, human foetus inside that womb that is ready to make its debut into the world.”

Pete wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

On one hand, there was a fully gown human foetus – a fully gown _baby_ – in his stomach that was almost ready to come out. It was ready to be _born_. If Pete believed in fate – and sometimes he really did – then he would believe that this was fate intervening and telling him what to do, that he was truly meant to have this baby. Maybe this was the universe’s way of telling him that he’s _not supposed to get rid of it_. And he could almost breathe a sigh of relief because, well, didn’t this eliminate the risks of pregnancy anyway? He wouldn’t have to go through nine months of Patrick worrying because he was basically already due.

On the other hand, less than twenty-four hours ago he had assured himself that he was not ready to be a father. And it’s not like he had worked out the adoption plan, since he had decided against adoption and chose…the other thing. However, he could feel already that he was not willing to give up this _fated_ child. Not to a stranger, anyway.

“So, you’re saying that Pete’s having the baby?” Patrick asked.

“Yes. In fact, we can change the details of his appointment from a termination to a delivery, and we can operate…well, now.”

Pete turned to his best friend. “Come with me?”

Patrick’s worried face broke out into a small smile. “Of course. You know I’d never leave your side, right?”

He nodded.

“Okay, well, if you’re ready, we can move you into a room to prepare for induction,” the doctor explained. “You can’t have the baby naturally, unless you woke up this morning with anything unusual to report? Anything else besides this, of course.” Pete shook his head. “So, we’ll probably have to do caesarean, but we don’t know yet how exactly this birth is going to work so we’ll have to look into possibly inducing you first.”

“You’re the doc, doc,” Pete told him.

Dr. Richard grinned. “Great. We can discuss your options after the hard part so that you can relax first before having to make a decision.”

* * *

Nobody told Pete that “the hard part” was going to be _this_ hard. Or well, his mother probably mentioned it at some point in his life.

Mothers liked to guilt trip their children with the painful birth reminders.

And, to be fair, his mother had given birth to him naturally. He couldn’t remember ever asking her if she had gotten an epidural – what teenaged or young adult son cares about something like that? – but she had to squeeze him out of a tiny hole, and at least Pete was instead laying on a bed and receiving an incision. There would be no squeezing and his body was pretty numb, but he had elected to stay awake because he wanted to see his baby when it came out. God, it all happened so fast, he didn’t even know the _sex_. Was it a girl? A boy?

Despite Dr. Richards’ assurances than he had a fully grown human foetus in his womb, was it even _human?_

Patrick, donning scrubs and a gown, stood by his side and held Pete’s hand the entire time. If Pete hadn’t been distracted by the doctors sticking their hands inside his stomach and extracting a tiny person, he might have thought that it looked like he and Patrick were an actual couple. But any thoughts about his relationship status with the younger man beside him were cut short when he heard the strangled little cry from below him.

“Congratulations, Mr. Wentz!” Dr. Richards exclaimed. “It’s a boy.”

His eyes went wide and he smiled. “A boy?”

“You have a son.” And then Dr. Richards turned his gaze toward Patrick and held out a pair of medical scissors. “Would you like to cut the cord?”

“M-me?”

“Go for it, ’Trick,” Pete told him, relaxing a bit now that he could hear _his son_ crying.

His _son_.

Pete was a goddamn father.

Patrick took the scissors and did the deed before the doctor carried the baby away to be cleaned up. As soon as the small child was wiped down and swaddled, he was brought to Pete, whose bed had been moved from its operating position to allow him to sit up. The baby was placed into his arms and Pete got to look upon _his son_ for the first time, and—

Holy _fuck_.

* * *

“He looks just like Patrick,” Joe said later, when Pete was returned to a private room with his baby to recover.

It didn’t look like there would be a concert the next day after all, because there was no way in hell he was recovering from a caesarean in only twenty-four hours. The doctor wanted to keep him under observation for _at least_ twenty-four hours, in case there were complications.

“That was the first thing I noticed,” Pete said, rocking the swaddled infant gently.

“But _how?_ ”

Patrick threw up his hands in defense. “Don’t look at me! I certainly didn’t sleep with him!”

“Apparently he’s a clone,” Pete explained. “And not even a clone of _me_ , which you would think because he came from my body. But the doctor ran a test to see if Patrick was genetically the kid’s other father, and it turns out the kid is just genetically _Patrick._ ”

“That’s the most bizarre curse I’ve ever heard of,” Joe commented.

Andy looked thoughtful. “Well, maybe there’s a little more to the curse than we considered.”

“What do you mean?” Patrick asked.

“Well, we thought that the curse was to punish Pete for being such a slut, right? That a baby would teach him a lesson about being promiscuous and shit, probably to give him a reason not to go out and sleep with random people anymore. But,” the drummer continued, “maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe the witch knew that she couldn’t compete with Patrick for Pete’s attention, that _nobody_ would be able to compete with Patrick. Maybe…”

Pete picked up where Andy trailed off. “Maybe the child was supposed to bring us together. Maybe she knew I lo—” He cut himself off before he could say too much and looked up at Patrick. The other man was smiling at him.

God, he wanted that to be true.

“She didn’t have to give you a baby to do that, though,” the younger man stated. “All you had to do was _talk to me_ , you know.”

“Wait, so I was right?” Joe asked. “The baby wasn’t a curse after all, it _was_ a blessing?”

Patrick looked exhausted. “I’m not sure that this was a _blessing_. I mean, what do we do now? Cancel the rest of the tour? Postpone? We have literally _no_ baby stuff, how are we supposed to take care of a baby? Are we even keeping the baby?” He turned to look at Pete, who nodded in confirmation. Yes, he had decided he wanted to keep his baby. “How exactly are we supposed to do this? No, this was a curse alright – like, he’s adorable and I love him and _of course_ I’ll be his other father – but I’m _freaking out_ a bit here.”

“We’ll finish the tour and then take a hiatus,” Andy suggested. “Give you two some time to work some things out and be cute and domestic.”

Joe nodded. “And then we can come back bigger than ever.”

“We can even do that metal thing we talked about!” Andy said to Joe excitedly.

“Fuck yeah, man!”

Pete couldn’t help but laugh. God, he loved all the people in this room. He loved Andy for always being on top of things and having a plan. He loved Joe for…being Joe and thinking about this baby as a blessing, because as far as he was concerned, his son _was_ a blessing. He loved Patrick for being his best friend, always being by his side, agreeing to do this with him without even a second thought. It helped that Patrick was fucking gorgeous and he would revel in the chance to spend the rest of his life _co-parenting_ with this amazing man.

And he loved his newborn son, who had come unexpectedly and rocked his life, but he could never say it was for the worst.

Patrick interrupted his thoughts by pointing out, “first things first: he needs a name.”

Oh, right.

“I have some ideas,” Pete said.

The previously sleeping baby let out a loud wail, immediately kicking Pete into action and rocking the infant a little harder than before. “I think he’s yours,” he commented to Patrick without even looking up at the younger man. “He didn’t even let me finish before rejecting my ideas. Totally gets that from you.” He then changed targets. “That’s not fair!” he exclaimed to the baby. “You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

Joe chuckled and muttered, “he’s Patrick, alright.”

As Patrick took the screaming child from his arms and began cooing at him, Pete couldn’t help but _glow_. He certainly _never_ in a _million years_ imagined that he’d ever have a baby with Patrick – or a baby that _is_ Patrick – but maybe that’s because he never knew he wanted it.

Now he wanted nothing _but_ that.

Funny how what was supposed to be a _curse_ really did turn out to be the greatest blessing in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> As I mentioned in the beginning notes, the idea came to me last night to write a short little cracky fic about Pete being impregnated through a curse. This soon turned into Pete being impregnated with _Patrick's clone_ , because I read an mpreg once where Pete was pregnant with _his own clone_ , and since this was supposed to be pure crack, I figured it would be an amusing twist to make it a Patrick clone. Especially since the baby was created by a curse, so really, anything is possible.
> 
> Follow me on social media! I'm **padawanryan** on [Tumblr](https://padawanryan.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/PadawanRyan), and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/padawanryan/). ✌️


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